


high sun, shifting sands

by lazulila



Series: high sun, shifting sands [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Gerudo!Keith, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-01-27 19:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21397186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazulila/pseuds/lazulila
Summary: Male Gerudo are born once in a generation, if they are so fortunate. No one knew that one had actually been born, until a troupe of Hylians come to them for help on a a quest for knowledge.[A crossover between VLD and Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild]
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: high sun, shifting sands [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542604
Comments: 37
Kudos: 147





	1. The Male Gerudo

**Author's Note:**

> Here it finally is, i guess.
> 
> some quick things to know going in: this crossover is based off of Breath of the Wild in particular, and while you could PROBABLY read it without being familiar with the universe or game, it helps and is written with the assumption that you are. I chose not to tag the LoZ fandom so they don't get bogged down with what's really at heart a VLD fic. Mention is made of canon events and characters, but aren't front and center.
> 
> Any assertions I make about lore or Gerudo/Hylian culture are based largely off speculation. while I WOULD BE HAPPY TO DISCUSS MY HEADCANONS or reasons why I did [x] thing, do not by any means take anything i write super seriously lol. this is done purely, purely for indulgent fun that i'm still surprised that people are also into.
> 
> i have lots of ideas but very little time or attention so let's see how far this gets to run :v

By mid-morning, the sun beats waves of heat through the sand. It's so unforgiving, that even the arid wind is stifling. Even beneath the shaded tent, with only a bucket of iced water for relief, it's just short of unbearable. The guards have generously brought it out for them from inside the town walls, along with a bowl of chilled fruit.

“...You think they'd spot us some of those clothes if we asked nicely?” Hunk peels off his woven doublet. Shiro wonders how he'd kept it on this long at all. “They're looking comfortably breezy.”

“Not sure I'm down for the midriff look on myself.”

“This is taking too long,” Lance grumbles and pulls his collar off his neck, as if it would make much difference. “How long should we be waiting?”

At his griping, the guards cast a sharp eye from the gate posts.

“Stop griping,” Shiro admonishes. “We're lucky they're even hearing us out.”

Ten days in a Gerudo prison saw them promptly tossed out on the morning of the eleventh. Blindfolded in the bare bones light of sunrise, they couldn't see a thing. The hands that wrapped around their arms had been as solid as steel, the clicks of the guards' heels on the stone tiles echoing through the barren city streets.

There were enough for there to have been at least five or six of them as escort, and they'd deposited them at the south gate. Strong, efficient fingers had yanked off their blindfolds.

The guard, whose name he'd learned as Pasha, had spoken for the troupe who'd led them out.

“You're free to go. Your time is paid.” She nodded sternly. There was warmth yet in her glittering green eyes, but turned heel with a stark warning of, “Don't come back.”

Except they did.

They walked two hours into cool dawn, to a little outlying village where Gerudo made business, men were allowed, and travelers gathered. It was well into the afternoon by the time Pidge and Allura appeared at the tavern's lobby, full of excited tales of the town's interior.

“Glad _someone_ had fun.” Lance starts, slinging his arm over the back of the chair and knocking back the iced tea the waitress had brought them.

“We _did._” Pidge smugly pushes her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

“We did sorta break their biggest law.” Hunk shrugs. “All things considered, it wasn't too bad. A week and a half without moblins and whatnot chasing after us? Coulda been way worse.”

“You're just saying that because of all the new foods they brought us.”

“What? That wrong or something?”

“No, but my mouth still hasn't recovered from all the hot peppers.”

“Anyway,” Shiro evades further distraction, leaning forward onto his elbows. “Did you manage to get any help?”

Rumors of ruins that housed ancient artifacts, deep in the desert, had attracted them to this sweltering land. But it was vast and dangerous, and they'd had hopes of finding guidance, having little hope of navigating it themselves with any kind of safety. It'd brought them to the center of such knowledge, no less than Gerudo town itself. There could be no one better to help them survive the many perils.

It'd been the plan for Pidge and Allura to go into the town, forbidden to men, and find what they could. It _hadn't_ been the plan for Shiro, Hunk, and Lance to botch a sneaky entry and find themselves incarcerated.

“We didn't get an audience with the chief,” Pidge swings her braid off the back of her neck, fanning herself with a notebook. “But we met with Krolia. She's the captain of their guard.”

“Oh, great, the one who threw us in prison.”

“She did not _throw you in prison_,” Pidge rolls her eyes, “She just...permitted it.”

“Same difference,” Lance huffs.

“_Not _ same difference,” An ice cube cracks loudly between Pidge's teeth, “It's her job. You weren't _supposed to be there_ , we _told_ you to _wait outside._ Not our fault you idiots got yourselves locked up.”

“Hey--”

“Enough.” Allura cuts in, her patience cut short by the heat. “It's too hot for this. Krolia allowed the guards to bring our request to the their Chief, and she agreed to help us find a guide, with some sanctions in place."

Combined, the name _Holt,_ and the royal Hylian crest on Allura's papers carried enough weight to earn them an ear. They are on mission for knowledge, and were trusted by no less than the royal court of Hyrule themselves.

“Sanctions? So, rules.” Hunk wipes at a trickle of sweat by his temple with a handkerchief.

“Yes,” Allura confirms. “They will meet us tomorrow at noon to discuss their conditions in exchange for our cooperation.”

“We'd have better leverage with them if half our party hadn't pissed them off already.” Pidge bemoans and pointedly ignores Lance's glare.

“They don't know you were with us,” He snips.

“How many Hylians did you see around when we got there? It's not like they get _that _many tourists.” Pidge leans on her elbows, far across the table to sneer in his face. “They're a little more gifted in the upstairs than you.”

“Put a bra on.”

“No. I've been enlightened here.”

“We'll see how it shakes out.” Shiro ignores their bickering, and takes a blessedly cold sip of his drink. “And work with what they give us.”

–

What it turns out to be, is Krolia herself meeting them at the gate, accompanied by a flock of guards. Behind them, women come and go through the town, passing curious looks, and a loose crowd lingers, keeping a subtle watch on the unfamiliar group of Hylians.

“I've conferred with Buliara and Lady Riju,” Her words are stately, her tone calm and careful, the coolest thing besides the fresh ice in their waterskins. “You will receive escort to help you traverse the desert. You will be guided to the ruins you seek, and study them. Should you disrespect, desecrate, or damage anything, _harsh _reparations will be made. It is expected that you understand that being allowed to study our sacred grounds is a privilege, and behave as such.”

Reasonable.

Pausing, her sharp eyes study them, as if searching for any hint of dissent.

“Of course,” Allura assures her. “We will take the utmost care.”

Nodding gracefully, Krolia continues, “No relics will be moved or removed. We expect a full report of your findings, and in turn, you'll have access to the libraries, aided by scholars.”

Very reasonable. Generous, actually.

A few more details here and there, and they're able to ask another important question.

“So who will we be going with? When do we leave?” Allura inquires, eagerness lacing her tone. They had gotten a good offer.

“Three days time,” Krolia answers. A smile quirks the corner of her mouth, her demeanor softened, perhaps, by Allura's enthusiasm. Waving an arm to signal, one of the guards steps forward, cutting a sharp, swaying salute with her scimitar.

“Nali will be guiding you--”

“Wait.”

Startled and puzzled all at once, Krolia turns her gaze, when a small figure steps forward from a break in the meandering crowd.

“Woah, hang on,” Lance swings his palms up, “That did _not_ sound like a girl--”

Strange how one word could drop the floor out from Shiro's stomach; he knows that voice.

Krolia's brow furrows ever so slightly as a hand lifts, pulls down a veil to reveal a familiar face.

“Let me go with them.”

It's a young man that stands before Krolia. Dark hair escapes a deep red head covering to curl beneath an angled jawline, and nearly fall into determined eyes that set to hers.

She glances him over, considering.

“Why?”

“Because why not?” He argues, shoulders squared. “I'm capable as anyone. I know the desert. I know how to navigate, and I can read the ancient dialects.”

“It will be dangerous.” Krolia's tone cuts like glass.

“The desert has always been dangerous.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Shiro is aware of the baffled looks exchanged between his comrades at the reveal. He himself, can only stare.

There is only male Gerudo in the world. And while Shiro had sat in a prison cell, he had sat golden and crimson in the sun that bled through the bars of his cell. With a voice whose grit matched the roughened stone of the walls, and features as sharp and vivid as the colored glass tiles that lined them, he had snuck into Shiro's cell nearly every day to talk.

_I've never seen another man._ He'd confessed.

_I've never been beyond the desert. Tell me where you're from._

“....Nali has been given this as an assignment.” Krolia says carefully. “You are not part of the royal guard.”

“I'm as well trained as any of them.” He insists. “And I've been to the ruins before. Most, if not all of them. I know the way, and if I go, it won't take Nali away from her duties seeing to her Highness.”

With a long sigh, Krolia turns to Nali. “Kindly bring his request to Lady Riju.”

Nali quirks an eyebrow at the boy, and with something akin to fondness, scolds, “You're trouble, little _voe_. You'll give your mother gray hair, you know.”

She gets a cheeky grin as reply, and with a husky scoff of a laugh, takes him by the shoulder and steers him in through the gates.

When they're gone, Krolia's rubbing a temple and sighing. The only time, Shiro thinks, she's shown any exasperation at all.

“Uh...so..what now?” Hunk timidly asks.

Krolia shifts the sword belt on her hip. “I don't know if Lady Riju will allow him to venture so far from us.”

“I....I see. I can imagine.” Allura concedes diplomatically. After a breath of a pause, then asks, “Is he...really your son, as she said?”

Krolia's eyes melt with love, and smiles in earnest. It's something warm and real and lovely.

“Yes. My son. Troublesome boy that he is.”

“Oh, so _he_ gets to waltz into Gerudo town, meanwhile _we--”_

Four different hands clamp over Lance's mouth, but not fast enough for Krolia to whip her gaze in his direction.

There's a tense moment where it's unclear if she's been offended; they can practically feel Lance wilt under the weight of her stare. Eventually, her mouth quirks, in neither amusement or disdain, and says simply, “He was born here, to us. To me. He belongs.”

“Buddy,” Pidge hisses, “My man. My bro. You need a quick refresher on Gerudo culture.”

It's another hour and a half before Nali returns with Keith in tow, the sun now high and mighty, and she shakes her head at Krolia.

“He's your son, and therefore, it's your call, Krolia.” She says with a curt shrug. “So says Lady Riju.”

At first, Krolia doesn't react; then she sighs softly, giving the shifting sand a thoughtful glance before turning to her son.

Anticipation brews in his dark eyes, a knowing grin pulling at his mouth. It's clear, that this is a child who knows where his exactly where his parent's soft spot is.

“....You will be _careful_.” She says firmly, carefully. It's less a request than a veiled order.

“Of course.”

“You're a reckless thing. I can't take your word for it.” Krolia scolds, bringing her hand up to take him by the chin and give his face an affectionate shake. “Take Axca with you. Watch out for each other.”

“Okay.” Keith concedes, his gaze towards her as soft as hers had been.

They exchange an unspoken look, and Krolia turns her attention back to their waiting audience.

“Three days from now,” She reminds, “We will meet you here at daybreak.”

–

“You're spoiling him,” Nali warns, along the way back towards the palace. “You should be making him a match for a wife, not sending him off on frivolous trips with Hylians.”

Krolia says nothing. She's had too many of these sort of conversations, and it'd started from his birth. It'd only gotten worse when he became a teenager, and every other day since, she's had to ward off proposals by mothers, hopeful for their daughters, and eager matchmakers, who wanted the honor of wedding their desert miracle.

When she'd gauged Keith's reaction to the prospect of a wife, as carefully arranged for him as the jewels in their Queen's crown, he had only been left discomforted and anxious.

So she'd never pushed it again. Despite the pleas and badgering from their neighbors and the high officials, she waved them all away as unwanted.

_So we are all allowed to marry for love, except for my own son?_

She knew, and still understands, why they are eager; he is a once in a generation marvel. A daughter of his would be seen as no less than another. A good omen to cap off Lady Riju's celebrated reign. And he'd grown well; he was among the fiercest of their warriors, his wits sharp to match. Despite his hot-blooded temper, he's little more so than anyone else born in the fires of the Gerudo desert.

From boyhood, the women had fawned over his dark hair and iron-steel eyes. He bore their attention with patience, if not grudging acceptance, leaving Krolia to rescue him many a time from their enthusiastic grasps.

“He's your spitting image, Krolia.” They'd say with pride, and give his hair one last ruffle before she tucked him by her side.

“Beautiful.”

And then he became of age, and the girls flocked to his broad shoulders and the deep rolling rasp of his voice. Keith had shown no more interest in them than he did as a child, preferring to meet them in the sparring rings than his room.

Keith is twenty and grown, now. Rather than search for a loving partner, his gaze looks out over the sands, to the distant mountains and the lands beyond.

One way or another, he would see those lands. She could either give him her blessing, or not.

And how could she say no to her only treasure?

–

As promised, on the eve of dawn, three days later, they're met at the main gates by a handful of Gerudo soldiers, their golden armor and red hair glowing by the light of the torches and lanterns.

Keith waits with Krolia, another woman near his age, hair cut close and eyes no less intense, hovering nearby. Introduced as Axca, she gives a brief, stiff greeting, the lines of her mouth razor sharp, and her lips painted a stunning cobalt blue.

Harnessed securely to a massive wooden post are two equally massive sand seals, their cargo sleds loaded with trunks of provisions. Although, as Krolia explains, there were a handful of oasis by which to replenish supplies, they were far and few between.

“You aren't going to want to carry those.” Axca says simply, relieving them of their packs and setting them on the sled, explaining while she secures them with rope. “It'll exhaust you in no time, and overheat you with the effort.”

She passes to each of them veils, scarves, of linens so fine, they flutter at the slightest breeze. “Don't underestimate the sun. There's no relief to be had out there, from dawn to dusk.”

Krolia leans down to help secure a covering around Pidge's head, carefully setting a circlet in place to keep it secure.

“Especially you,” She chuckles low and rich, showing her how to pin and secure the face covering. “Your skin is so fair, you'll burn in no time.”

Shiro glances at the hood that had been placed in his hands, embroidered with fine and vibrant threads. He traces the pattern with admiring fingers, before catching sight of Keith beside him.

Crouching low before the sand seals, cooing at them softly, he's stroking their broad, whiskered muzzles while they whine nervously.

“Sand seals are anxious creatures.”

It takes a moment for Shiro to realize Keith was talking to him; he hadn't even realized Keith knew he was there.

“Oh...well. Been around horses all my life. They can't be that much different.”

“We'll see.”

Carefully, Shiro drops down, admiring the hulking beasts. Their huffs of breath rustle the sand, and send strands of Keith's dark hair floating about his face.“You seem pretty good with them.”

Bright in the glow of the torch posts, Keith's eyes glint above his smirk.

“Been around them all my life.”

-

With a final check, and Krolia's well wishes for a safe travel, they begin their trail over the dunes. The walls of the town and its towering spires shrink behind them, cloaks pulled around them to stave off the last of the cool night air.

Once in a while, the seals grunt or whine softly, their tethers securely in Axca's trained hand.

By the time the first rays of the sun are beginning to bathe the land gold, it's already starting to become warm.

“So,” Hunk calls cheerfully, “You guys are really well prepared. Which is great, because like, you know, we wouldn't have had any idea what to do. Lost literally, and figuratively.”

“That's why we're here.” Axca answers curtly.

“I...uh. Yeah. You're right, of course.”

Neither of them seem to be much altogether the talkative types. For the first hour or two, they don't offer much conversation, and only murmur among themselves in Gerudo tongue.

Even though they speak little, they walk with a sense of poise and alertness that speak to years of discipline. Likely with the weapons hanging at their hips, shields on their backs.

More than once, Shiro catches Keith's pointed stare; at the woven cloth of Allura's woolen cloak, the hearty leather satchel that Hunk had strapped to the back of the wagon, embroidered with Naryu's symbol. Interest glints in his sharp eyes, the only uncovered part of his face; he's studying the Hylian-style bow mounted on Lance's back when he catches Shiro watching him.

For a moment, they hold eye contact. Keith's gaze is fearless and unwavering. Shiro offers a smile that he hopes is disarming. He thinks small talk might help, and opens his mouth to speak--

“So what's it like, being the only dude in a city of women?”

Keith's attention snaps from Shiro to Lance in an instant.

“Watch your volume.” Axca cautions. “We don't need to attract any trouble.”

“Alright, alright, yeah yeah.” Dropping his voice, but just barely, he looks over his shoulder at Keith expectantly. “So how is it?”

Keith's brow bows low, apparently perplexed. “I don't understand the question.”

“I mean, must be awesome. Having them fawn all over you, I'm sure. You're like a hero or something to them, right? Pidge told me it's a super rare thing that you were born—you sure you weren't adopted?”

Pidge groans, “_Dude_, if you're going to act like a tool, don't drag my name into it.”

Keith's eyes pass over both of them. After a moment of consideration, answers, “I'm not a hero. I've done nothing worth being called one. They hold esteem for me because a natural born male Gerudo is rare, this much is true.”

“Oh, so it's not actually anything special.”

Keith's eyes narrow. “Depends on who you ask. And if you're asking me, that is my answer. I am no more special than any other Gerudo aside from my gender.”

“Oh. Well that's anti-climactic.”

“One more thing, Hylian.”

“Yeah, what's that--”

With a hand as quick as a snakebite, Keith snatches Lance's shoulder to whirl him around to face him.

“Do not ever question my parentage. Krolia is my mother. To call this a falsehood is to insult us both, and you don't want to do that.”

“_Yikes_, okay, okay.” Lance whips both palms out in surrender. “It was a _joke._”

“Can you maybe _not_ antagonize the only two people who stand between us and dying miserably in the middle of a desert?” Hunk punches Lance lightly in the arm.

“I said it was a _joke_.”

“Keith is important to our people for what he symbolizes.” Axca informs him, her voice as a blade on a whetstone. “His birth was considered an auspicious sign, and stands as an example of our pride.”

“Is it true that male Gerudo are made king?” Allura cheerily cuts in, distracting Axca from her ire.

“That used to be. Nowadays, though, we don't observe that tradition. He won't be made King, or take the Queen's place. However, all eyes are on him for greatness.”

“Greatness, huh? No pressure.” Hunk nudges Keith's side with an elbow, sending a grin and a wink his way.

For whatever it was worth, if the crinkle at the corner of Keith's eyes mean anything, there's a smile beneath that veil. In the beginning of dawn's light, it's warm as the horizon's sun.

“None.”

–

They've estimated about three days travel to reach the ruins they seek.

The sun is harsher out here than imagined, and the sand ensuring a slow pace. They take breaks in the shade of boulders, and rising red plateaus where they can. Keith and Axca consult each other over maps while the rest of them look on, ask questions, sharing wedges of freshly sliced hydromelon. The juice slips over their fingers, bursting sweetly in the mouth from the plump fruit.

At night, they make camp, with their escorts taking turns at keeping vigilant watch.

“We can take turns too,” Allura offers, pulling a blanket across her shoulders against the night chill. “No need for you two to take full responsibility.”

Axca and Keith share glances.

“It's fine.” Axca decides, “We'll handle it.”

“Are you sure?” Pidge tucks herself in closer to Shiro's side for warmth, “We'll help.”

“Leave it to us.” Keith kneels, feeding another batch of dried leaves to the modest campfire.

“What, you think we can't, or something?” Lance turns, hands defensively planted on his hips.

“Not really.”

“_What--_”

“We know the desert,” Axca cuts in, “We know what to look for. That's all he means.”

Any ill will Lance has towards Keith's blunt comments dissolve the next morning when he catches him drawing the landscape, eyes wide in wonder, before all but begging for the rest of his drawings.

Legs folded beneath him, he pours over the things Lance has documented, from the foliage and animals they've come across in the forests, to the snowy mountain peaks and the ghostly canyons where they'd found decrepit, broken down Guardian remains.

“You've seen all these places,” Keith breathes, carefully leafing through the heavy parchments, while Lance, excited for someone else's excitement, eagerly draws out more from his bag. “You've seen so much.”

“Yeah,” Proudly, Lance sits cross legged beside him, passing his sketches of the shore off and the craggy rocks they had made camp among one night. “We've been at it a while.”

Axca leans over his shoulder, and hums in interest. Keith holds a drawing up of a forest, with huge, looming trees; sharp mountain ranges in the background. While she peers at it, he says something in Gerudo, and it makes her scoff as she turns back to help Allura set up the tarp.

“Your mother would kill you.”

Keith grins, and says no more.

–

They may not be chatty types, but Keith's curiosity makes itself evident. He runs his fingers over the cloth of Lance's hood, over Allura's blanket, unfamiliar with the cotton and wool that was more common in Hyrule and seldom seen among Gerudo silks and linens. While Pidge flips through her books and maps, he crouches beside her and examines the book binding, glued and wrapped in paper, sheltered with a hard cover, while she rattles off theories and findings.

“We think the Sheikah and the Gerudo ancestors were more in contact than previously thought,” Pidge settles in Shiro's lap, clamping the blanket shut around her, “Some old texts suggest that during their migration, the Sheikah fled in this direction something several millennia ago, and stayed long enough to have shared some technological knowledge.”

“Really,” Keith hums, eyes wide, and shifts closer. Axca is a few paces back, eyes scanning the darkening horizon, but if the flick of her eyes in their direction is an indication, she's listening. “We've always known they've had some contact with us, but you think they lived with us for that long of a time?”

“We're not sure,” Pidge pushes up the bridge of her glasses, and plucks a piece of bread from Shiro's plate. He doesn't seem to mind. Mouth full, she continues, “That's what we're hoping to learn more about. The Sheikah aren't native to Hyrule, have been around since the early days of the Kingdom, but no one's really sure where they're from. Those records were locked away by the royal family and lost centuries ago, so we don't even know how much they influenced each other.”

“And this is what you're hoping to discover, based on our ruins?” Keith tilts his head.

“They've been there for generations.” Axca cuts in, glancing over her shoulder. “What could you find that we didn't?”

“Well,” Allura picks delicately at some dried fruit, tearing it into bite sized pieces, “Up until relatively recent history, interaction between the Gerudo and Hyrule wasn't..._friendly_. We don't have the history or the relationship that we did with the Sheikah. What's more, between the Calamity and the restoration of the Hylian Kingdom, there were hardly resources or people to spare. We're hoping we can finally share some of our own, and see how they might have at one point been connected, through the Sheikah.”

“Like what?”

Nibbling lightly on a dried mango piece, Allura smiles and hums. “That's what we would very much like to find out.”

“On top of that,” Pidge starts, is distracted by strip of dried meat in held front of her nose. Pausing to bite it out of Shiro's fingers, she chews and continues, “The Gerudo had some sophisticated engineering going way before Hyrule ever even saw proper plumbing. The aqueducts you guys have now speak to that. We think there's a chance that between Sheikah mystic arts and Gerudo engineering, a lot of innovation happened. There's so much we don't know about the inventions of that time; the Divine Beasts, the Guardians, the Towers. Couldn't it be possible that this is where Sheikah technology originated from?”

“We're hoping, really, that by cross referencing our knowledge with Gerudo history and artifacts, it may give us some insight as to how to recreate some of these technologies,” Allura supplements, the excitement shining her eyes from blue stone to stars. “And while we're at it, perhaps learn more about some of the ancient magic our ancestors wielded freely.”

“Magic, huh.” Axca muses out loud.

“_Yes_,” Allura continues freely, undeterred by the vaguely unimpressed looks of their Gerudo escorts. “The Sheikah were incredible. They still are, of course, but they were very secretive about their methods. So much has been lost to history, so much gone to catastrophe and disaster, with few left to pass their ways down.”

“But they somehow were able to imbue their knowledge of spiritual arts to practical uses, and have such advanced technology, that we can't even replicate it _now_, hundreds to thousands of years later,” Pidge gestures, setting her text down for Axca an Keith to lean forward and glance at. Flipping through pages of diagrams and notes, she explains, “If we could figure out how their inventions worked, we could adapt it for ourselves.”

“Learn more about our shared pasts,” Allura reminds, insists, “Discover what we can before it is truly lost for good.”

Their enthusiasm crackles with the fire, and their only reaction is a hum from Keith that could mean anything. Shiro slips the flask into Pidge's hand so she remembers to drink water even in the cool of the desert night.

Keith has his chin perched on the back of his hand, tilting his head with the question, “And you brought this all up to Lady Riju?”

“Well,” Allura admits, “We didn't meet her directly. We explained everything to your mother, and she was kind enough to relay our intentions and request to Her Highness.”

“Ah.”

“...Is that a bad thing?” Hunk pipes up.

“No,” Keith leans back on his outstretched arms. “She has a soft spot for Hylians, but she's a busy monarch. That she listened to you at all, offered help, and so quickly, means she has some regard for you.”

“Your tale, I imagine, also intrigues her.” Axca goes back to scanning their surroundings, slow steps taking her around the perimeter. “A long time ago, a Hylian came to our rescue in the early days of her reign. She's never forgotten.”

“You said you were hoping to use some of these inventions for your own use,” Clever eyes flicking orange from the fire, Keith's voice comes soft and rich, rolling heavy with his accent. “What sort of things did you have in mind?”

A few paces away, Axca's footsteps stop.

Allura doesn't miss the weight of his question for a moment.

“For peace,” She says, leaning forward, “To rebuild our kingdom, improve of the lives of the people. To know our ancestors, and to do right by their legacy as much as the ones we'll leave behind.”

“We want to help,” Hunk chirps, Keith's gaze flicking to him, “We could make plows to help farmers, navigation tools for travelers, heated ovens that can keep people warm when firewood is scarce. There's a lot we could do.”

Across the fire, Shiro watches Keith enigmatic features as he takes this in, and mulls it over.

After a tense moment, approval warms his face over, and he stands, brushing some stray hair over his shoulder.

“That so,” He walks over to Axca, and pats her shoulder. She gives him a pensive look before resuming his spot by the fire, and he picks up a shawl to throw around his shoulders as he takes her post, away from the fire and into the shadows of the night.

“Let's see what you come up with.”


	2. Chapter 2

Early the next morning, as the night sky bleeds into bright jay blue, they come across an oasis. It's decided, unanimously, to take a few hours' rest, as a soft wind scatters only the finest grains of sand across their feet.

Sun twinkles across ripples in the water, and glare bright off the armor that Keith and Axca set to the side. Neither are shy about shedding their clothes, and after some fluster from their companions, some very distinct differences between Gerudo and Hylian ideas of modesty are quickly noted and sorted.

“It's bathing,” Puzzled, Keith stretches and rolls his shoulders. “What's so inappropriate about that?”

“Uh, well,” Hunk tries to explain, vague hand gestures accompanying. “It's just. I dunno. It's considered sort of the polite thing to do, I guess?”

Keith stares blankly.

A tarp is set up between a couple of trees and another tossed on the ground for the men to sit on and wait while the women wash first.

“I'm still not understanding why we have to wash separately like this.” Keith shakes his head as he unpins his head scarf in the shade of the divider.

“I guess that's not really something you had to consider growing up, huh?” Shiro laughs and settles on a spot, crossing his legs.

“No. Not really.”

“What, do people just _walk around naked_ in Gerudo town?” Lance huffs.

“Of _course_ not.” Keith defends.

“...Do _you?_”

“Of _course I don't!_”

“Easy, easy, both of you,” Hunk gestures gently with two large hands, “It's not a big deal. Different cultures is all. Just a misunderstanding. Just...wasn't expecting both of you to whip off your shirts like that."

“We were going to wash. What's to yell about?” Keith unpins his hair, running his hand through the dark silk and freeing it of some wayward sand. “_My_ chest is fine, but Acxa's is _not_. That doesn't make sense to me.”

“Some people agree with you, if it makes you feel any better.” Shiro assures, uncorking a canteen for a drink of water as Keith plants himself across from him on the blanket.

Keith shakes his head, and leans back onto his arms, unapologetic about his own still-bare chest.

“Your friend Pidge didn't seem to mind.”

“Pidge...does what Pidge wants.”

It's mid-morning by now, the sun raising the sand's heat to that of a hearth below them. While they wait for the girls to wash, they snack on dried strips of sweetened meat and bread.

_“Sooooo,_ level with me.” Lance props an elbow up on Keith's shoulder, eyebrow scooting up towards his hairline. “You gotta have a girlfriend, right?”

Keith blinks at him, slowly chewing.

“...._Right?_”

“I don't.” Keith admits. Lance's face drops.

“_Seriously?_”

There's a very specific look that Keith gets on his face when Lance says or does something to bewilder or puzzle him. It includes a tightened brow, a quirked mouth, and a suspicious glint to his eye, like he's not sure if he's being pranked or not.

“What is so wrong with that?” Shifting uneasily, Keith reaches for a melon to start cutting.

“You're the _only_ man in a city of _only_ women.” Lance waves his hands, disbelieving. “How do you _not_ have a girlfriend!? Not like you have any competition with other guys.”

Shiro and Hunk pass each other weary looks. Lance's unstoppable curiosity from what he called “the sights” of the forbidden city were what had led them to attempt a sneaky entry in the first place. They hadn't wanted to let him go alone, and were imprisoned for their trouble.

“Who said I was looking?” Keith swallows hard, and wipes at the corner of his mouth with a defiant swipe of his thumb.

“Why wouldn't you?”

Keith gets _the look_ again, and Hunk cuts in.

“Because maybe getting a girlfriend isn't everyone's sole mission in life, Lance. Because _maybe_, he's not the kinda guy willing to risk ten days in jail trying to get in with some Gerudo ladies. Which, by the way, are _everywhere_ in this area _anyway_.”

“It wasn't the _only_ reason. Come on, it's a _forbidden city_, weren't you guys even the slightest bit curious?”

“Sure, but was it worth it? _Really._ Tell me. Was it _worth_ it?”

“....Is that really why you tried to sneak in?” Keith looks even less impressed than before. “For the women? I assure you, many of them are eager for men without your daring antics. There was no need for the—did you say ten days?”

“Yeah,” Shiro rubs a hand down his face. “Lance tried to smooth talk the guard captain that took us in. It didn't go well.”

For a moment, Keith neither moves, or speaks.

Then he lets out a huge, sharp bark of laughter.

“What's your problem!?”

“The punishment for trying to sneak in is seven days.” Keith cackles.

“_What!?_”

“Seven days,” Keith repeats with a wolfish smirk. “You made Pasha angry. Now I know why. She didn't buy whatever bullshit you tried to sell her.”

“_What?!_”

Lance gapes. Shiro and Hunk throw him looks as amused as a pair of wet cats, and Keith, still snickering, places a plate of quartered melon in the center of their circle.

“Eat.”

-

Shortly after, the voices of the women herald their return. Pidge pokes her head around their partition, hair scrubbed and soaked.

“All done, guys. Hey, did you leave any for us?”

“There is more.” Acxa draws another out of their trunk, and Allura watches with fascination at the deftness at which she slices it.

“Wow, your hair is _long_,” Pidge whistles, hands on her hips, examining where it ends at Keith's waist. “How do you _deal_ with all that?”

“I don't.” Keith says simply. “It dries quickly in the heat.”

“Yeah, I guess it must.” Pidge shakes a hand through her own hair. “I know mine is. Even Allura's hair is no match for this.”

The sun is already becoming rather strong by this time. A breeze rustles the dry shrubs that cling to the earth near the shoreline, while a few small lizards dart beneath rocks as they pass.

Keith remains alert even as they strip, eyes darting out towards the horizon every so often.

“Man, nice to finally get all that _sand_ off.” Lance splashes his face. They've found the water temperate, with enough leftover chill from the night before to cool them down.

“Yeah, I'm _real_ sure that'll last.” Hunk dunks his head into the water, wiping away the drops with his balled up shirt.

Shiro unbuckles his sword belt, watching Keith out of the corner of his eye.

The Gerudo boy keeps a distance, wary and watching his Hylian companions. Silent, as he runs fingers through the surface of the water, tanned skin glowing in its reflection, and looks across the water.

He can't help but wonder about it; Keith hadn't mentioned to Shiro about their time in the cell. Hadn't seemed to indicate he recognized or remembered him at all from their long conversations, in the windows between the guards came to check on their prisoners.

He hadn't seemed half so reserved then, asking all sorts of questions about where Shiro lived. What it was like, to see mountains great as the sky, and forests that spread as wide as the desert, secrets folded in its green.

“Hey,” Lance calls, and Keith's eyes whisk over, sharp as flint. “What're you over there spacing out for?”

For a moment, Keith doesn't answer.

Then he rises, carefully, and wades over.

“Sand storms.” He says simply. “They can come upon you very quickly. Best to keep a lookout.”

“Oh,” Hunk, a tad worried now, looks in the direction Keith had been. “Do they happen often?”

“Somewhat,” Keith answers, dragging his fingers through dampened locks, “They aren't always bad, but it's best to be near shelter. And, where there's water, there will be monsters. We shouldn't linger here too long.”

“Wait, there could be—then why are we out here buck-naked if we could get attacked?!”

“There were no signs of them when we arrived,” Keith explains, “No remains. No broken tools. They haven't been here recently, but that means they may return again soon.”

“Well then, uh, let's not stick around too much, yeah?” Hunk laughs uneasily, drawing out a clean set of clothing from his pack.

“You're familiar with this area, right?” Shiro asks while they dress, Keith's armor clinking as he pulls it back into place.

“As familiar as most,” Keith pulls the hair free of his collar. “And as familiar as one can be with an ever-changing desert. I have come out here, but not very frequently.”

“Well, isn't that comforting.” Lance remarks dryly, oblivious of the flare of annoyance on Keith's face.

“Not many people come this way,” Keith defends, “Because the only thing out here is the ruins. No more villages or trade. No people. But plenty of ways to die.”

Despite the heat, Hunk shivers. “Please don't bring that up. I'm already aware of that.”

“Hey, don't be so worried,” Shiro says cheerily, and claps Hunk on the shoulder. “There are plenty of ways to die _everywhere._”

“Shiro!”

Somehow, it cracks a smile out of Keith, who simply snorts, and finishes tying on his waist cloth.

Shortly after, they rejoin their companions, who are finishing up their breakfast. Wordlessly, Axca brings out a comb and starts on Keith's hair, while he sits cross-legged on a blanket and massages oil into his face, shoulders, neck. She does the same for herself when she's done, and Keith reaches for the places on her back that she can't reach well.

“It's for protecting your skin,” Acxa answers when asked, and tosses the bottle to a very excited Lance. “Help yourself.”

Allura had already bought some in the town, and reminded, happily applies it to her still bare arms and face. Pidge fusses and grumbles when Shiro dabs it on her nose, but gives in at his fussing.

Not long after, their tarp comes down, and so does their shade. Keith ties his hair back and winds it into some sort of complicated bun, secured expertly with a pin, before it's hidden beneath his scarf.

Shiro pities the loss, in some sort of vague, distant way. It's a shame to keep all that hair hidden away.

They're back on route with most of the day to go.

“We will camp tonight,” Acxa tells them, “And if we make good time, we will come upon the guard post tomorrow. It'll be the last touch we have with people before we make the final journey to the ruins.”

“There are guard posts so far out? So isolated?” Allura's surprised eyes are bright blue against the night sky of Acxa's.

“Yes,” Acxa confirms while she secures her face veil. “They rotate out the guards every so often. It may seem extreme, but we have learned of attacks from enemy hordes well in advance this way.”

“Are the monsters here really so bold, as to attack Gerudo town?”

“The town itself, no,” Keith replies, “But lost caravans, smaller towns, wayward camps, yes. Sometimes, bandits will make their way out here as well, to try and evade us.”

“We've seen tribes of beasts up to a dozen, sometimes two.” Acxa reports plainly, “Hardly an army, but enough to cause harm.”

“A dozen, huh?” Pidge chirps, and grabs Shiro's arm, hoisting it above her head. “He can handle that all by himself!”

Lance swiftly adds to the act, grabbing the other and striking a dashing pose. “Maybe even two!”

“Guys--” A startled laugh escapes Shiro, but a touch of embarrassment adds to the sun's warmth on his face.

“You know where we come from, they call him a hero.” Pidge waggles her eyebrows, pulling her scarf down just so she can grin at them.

“It's true,” Lance huffs. “Shiro the Hero!”

“_Please stop_.”

With a cackle, Pidge replaces her scarf. “Just thought they should know who they're escorting.”

Allura's giggling behind a hand. Acxa and Keith don't say anything at first, casting each other a glance. Every moment of their silence raises Shiro's temperature by another degree.

Given how blazing hot the sand bakes, that might actually be dangerous.

“Shiro is a decorated solider,” Allura clarifies, “Quite the popular subject for stories.”

“Calling me a hero is exaggerating.” Shiro grumbles, shaking his arm free of Lance's grip. "Besides, _you_ are, too."

One of the sand seals whinnies loudly and presses its bearded snout into Keith's hand. Absentmindedly, he strokes its wrinkled forehead, and catches Shiro's eye from beneath a dark fringe of hair.

There's a smile on his face, but it's nothing cruel, not even when he chuckles. It's soft and kind, a whisper of sand across stone.

“I'd like to see such skills from a Hylian warrior, sometime.”

With that, he turns back to the path ahead. To the golden dunes, rising and falling with the wind, endless as the sea.

Somehow, any words Shiro might have said, are lost beneath their waves.

–

Later on, they settle for the night beside a towering plateau, scraggly bushes jutting from where they cling to its crevices.

A few of these, Keith rips for the fire that Allura and Lance build, while Hunk and Acxa set up their tents and pour out water and food for the seals.

Pidge curls up against Shiro's side while they eat, blanket wrapped around her tiny frame.

Lance, ever theatrical, retells an old legend about a hero who could change skins with a thought and a song. The hero, as the stories go, traveled through not only the lands, but through time as well.

It was said that the young hero had journeyed across the world, searching for a lost friend. But he couldn't ignore those in need. His great deeds included everything from rescuing a lost forest princess, to avenging Zora hero, who fell trying to save his people.

To all of these, Keith listens keenly, the line of his mouth softened. The rust-red of his cloak flickers gold in the fire's light, and make his face glow copper.

“You know a lot of these?”

He sounds eager, as Lance settles against his pack with his own dinner.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Lance dips a piece of crust into the broth and takes a hearty bite. “I have a big family, so it's always story time to someone.”

“Ah.”

“What about you? Any siblings—well, any sisters?” Hunk offers a bowl of stew.

“No,” Keith says carefully, taking it with a soft word of thanks. “No, I'm my mother's only child.”

“Maybe that's why she's so protective.”

“Nah,” Pidge yawns and pokes her head under Shiro's arm. “My parents are way over protective of both me and Matt equally. It's just a parent thing.”

“Did your mother tell you any stories as a child?” Allura leans forward in her seat. “Surely there would be some you could tell us.”

“She did,” Keith shifts a little, shyly looking down at his food. “But I'm not great at telling them.”

“Oh come now,” Allura pleads, “I'd love to hear some. What about you, Acxa?”

At her name, Acxa looks up, and shrugs. “I'm even worse at it than he is.”

“Boo.”

“Boring.”

“You sure? We'd love to hear some.” Shiro encourages. “You don't have to be as dramatic. Lance just has a flair for that.”

“I'm taking that as a compliment.”

“It _was_ a compliment.” Shiro throws a pebble at him.

After a moment, Keith reconsiders, sitting up and repositioning his legs. “Alright. I'm not the best to hear them from, but I can tell you the stories.”

Nabooru is one of their most popular legends and heroes. A Gerudo warrior of old, who commanded her troupe of mercenaries and cutthroats. She battled monsters and men alike, made a fearsome name for themselves as thieves with honor, who helped cut down the King of Evil borne of the desert's shadowy magics, and his army of malicious beasts.

Once in a while, he stumbles with a word he doesn't know the Hylian equivalent for; but none of them had ever heard of the thief queen.

She had, as legend had it, crossed the desert wastelands to pay homage to the a long lost temple built by her ancestors. Along the way, she defeated an army of monsters, outsmarted a pair of witches, and punished those who dare lay harm to her sisters. Once at the temple, she received the blessing of the Sand Goddess herself.

Acxa doesn't say much, but nostalgia finds itself as a smile on her.

They exchange stories late into the night, the chatter rising with the moon. Acxa and Keith again take shifts keeping watch, while Pidge shoves her way onto Shiro's bedroll, Allura cozily on his other side with her own. Lance and Hunk sleep beside the fire, content beneath the stars.

–

Light is just beginning to seep into the sky when Shiro wakes. Pidge is still tucked against him, under a ball of blankets. He's loathe to move her, carefully freeing his arm from beneath her head, replacing it with her actual pillow.

When he stands, he realizes Keith is standing at the fire, watching.

Shivering lightly with the last of the night's briskness, Shiro makes his way over to be by its warmth. Wordlessly, Keith pours a cup from the small, steaming kettle and offers it to Shiro's thankful hands.

The tea is sweet and spiced, both soothing and brightening at once.

Keith's face is bare, the veil pulled down around his shoulders while he drinks.

“You two seem very close.”

He murmurs, so as not to disturb their companions, but his voice is sudden in the morning still. When Shiro glances over, he's watching the horizon.

Watching. Always watching, this one.

“We are,” Shiro dares take a seat on a nearby rock. “We practically grew up together. She's like a sister. You and Acxa seem the same way.”

“We also grew up together.”

“Ah. That makes sense. You seem very comfortable with her but...not really with anyone else.”

Keith gives him a curious look.

“Do I really seem that way?”

Although he doesn't sound offended, there's a defensive edge to him, now.

“It's nothing bad,” Shiro adds, “But when you visited me in the prison, you asked a lot of questions. Here, you keep your distance from us.”

Keith takes this in, and refills his cup.

Silences are a common with him. Shiro waits, and drums his fingertips along the side of his cup. It's an interesting design. They've molded a metal interior, and wrapped it in clay. Warm against his palms, but insulated so it doesn't burn him. And still usable should the clay crack or break.

“I was...curious.” The young Gerudo admits. “It got the better of me. I didn't think I would have the chance to talk to another Hylian, at least not for a while.”

“Nothing wrong with curiosity.” Shiro shrugs. “I just didn't know if we did something to like, annoy you.”

“I...no, nothing like that.” Keith sits, legs folded neatly beneath him. “I find it easier to watch people. I'm not very good at talking to them.”

“Oh.”

A twig from the fire snaps and crackles. Soon, they'll let it fade and burn itself to embers and ash.

“It is harder for people to ask things of you, when you do not talk to them.”

The comment surprises Shiro, who risks looking over at Keith. Not as surprising, his eyes are elsewhere, at the low-hanging clouds in the distance, heavy with the promise of shade, in a land far from where they sit.

“...Not everyone is like that.” Shiro all but whispers.

“No,” Keith agrees. “Not everyone.”

He reaches over, then, and pulls the blanket higher where, Shiro notices for the first time, Acxa is sleeping.

Then he rises, and before Shiro can even think of a reply, Keith retrieves his shield, slinging it over his back.

“We should start getting ready to move.”

-

He insists on letting Acxa sleep the longest while everyone else packs up. She'd been guarding most of the night, Keith explains. But she doesn't complain or hesitate when he shakes her awake. Instead, she hisses at him in Gerudo, gesturing to the already packed campsite, while he throws his hands up and replies as heatedly.

“Should we...uh...intervene?” Allura murmurs quietly.

“Nah,” Hunk waves his hand while he knots a rope securely around the tents. “They've definitely known each other forever. It'll be over and forgotten in minutes.”

“Take it from a little sister,” Pidge pipes up, “Just let them fight it out.”

Allura looks concerned, but goes about her tasks.

“You should have woken me up,” Acxa argues, “I would have helped.”

“You were awake half the night, maybe more,” Keith snaps back, “If you were still sleeping, your body needed the rest.”

They bicker, but as predicated, they're going over routes and consulting each other maps mere minutes later.

So the day's trek begins.

Partway through the morning, the sight of a handful of tall wooden poles appear in the distance. Crimson banners stream from the tops, and the sight of them brighten Keith and Acxa's moods.

“They're markers,” Keith explains with a hand to one as they pass it. “They're staked along some routes, here and there. It means we're on the right path. We should be at the guard station in less than an hour, where we'll stop to rest.”

“Cool,” Pidge examines one briefly. “Are these everywhere in the desert?”

“Not anymore,” Acxa says, “Apparently we used to control more of the desert than we do now. Most haven't been maintained.”

“And that changed? How come?” Allura asks.

“Constant battle and no men didn't do wonders for our population.” Acxa says simply. “And back around the time of the Calamity, the monsters were numerous, much more so than now, and more vicious. It was better for us then, the elders say, to ally ourselves with other people for the sake of survival.”

“Oh,” Hunk exclaims, “That must be when we really started trading with the Gerudo, then. I didn't really think about that. We're pretty much told you guys used to be real scary.”

“Used to be?” Keith smirks, “And we are not, anymore?”

“Well, you are. There's a reason Gerudo warriors are still popular in Hyrule for bodyguards and hired mercenaries,” Hunk hesitates, his tone careful, “But, you know, when things weren't so friendly between our countries...”

“Ah, of course.” Keith sighs. “When we were thought of as nothing but thieves and brigands.”

“Uh. Yeah. Sorry. Didn't really mean to bring that up.”

Keith just shrugs. “It doesn't tell the whole story, but they existed. It happened.”

And that's all that's said of it for the moment.

As they said, it's not long after that they reach the guard outpost. It's a squat stone building, with a watchtower reaching some fifty feet above. Ropes as thick as a man's wrist extend from its roof, down to a set of heavy metal stakes in the ground. Flags and banners of assorted colors and designs drift and whip along with the wind. Torches still smoldering from the previous night's flares.

The guards that greet them are not surprised at their appearance; they had seen them coming, of course, from the posted sentries. But they are taken aback by who, exactly, is here.

_“Sav'aaq”_ A tall, broad Gerudo woman is the first to officially greet them, her steps sure and authoritative. The bare parts of her arm are marked with scars, a gleaming spear in her hand. “Interesting, to see a group of Hylians out here.”

“_Sav'aaq_. They're scholars and their escorts. We're guiding them tot he ruins ahead.” Acxa gives a quick, polite bow at the waist.

The guard returns the gesture, and introduces herself as Reeza.

“To the ruins, you say?”

A couple of guards, younger, and likely lower ranking, mill about nearby. Clearly more interested than they're pretending to be, eyeing the appearance of men and much ignoring their Gerudo escorts.

Lance quickly catches on, waggling his eyebrows at them and squaring his shoulders.

“If you wanna try and impress anyone with your manly virtues, don't stand next to Shiro.” Pidge whispers, and sends Hunk into a wheezing laugh beside her.

“Hey!”

Meanwhile, Keith pulls his face free of the veil, now beneath the protection of the canopy's shade. “Anything you can tell us about the area lately? Monsters, bad weather?”

Reeza's eyes widen at the sight of him, but otherwise maintains her composure. The guards gasp when they realize their company; one of them giggles and says something behind her hand to the other, and then they both laugh.

Pidge scowls. Quietly, Acxa sighs under her breath. Keith's face sets as polished marble.

The end of Reeza's spear raps sharply on the stone floor.

“Stop gawking, both of you. To your posts. _Now_.”

They exclaim apologies, and hurry off, shoes clicking on the floor as they rush away.

“Silly girls.” Reeza shakes her head and turns heel, into the building.

It seems assumed that they should follow. Acxa and Keith do, both without a word.

Once inside, they walk down a narrow hall, to a practically furnished common room. Benches are stacked with pillows and blankets. There's a rack of weapons on the wall, and a cabinet filled, presumably, with supplies.

They're served chilled drinks and cuts of dried meat, well seasoned and paired well with dried figs and palm fruit.

“Young Lord Keith,” Reeza tops off her cup, and sits back in her seat, across the low table from him. “What are you doing so far from the city?”

“As Acxa said,” Keith said simply, “We are escorting them to the ruins. Lady Riju granted them permission herself.”

“And your mother,” There's a glint in her eye now, playful but intent. “Does she know you are out here?”

“Of course she does.” He scoffs.

“I should hope you're not lying about that,” Reeza warns. “Because she would have my head if she knew I let her living, breathing heart out into the dangers of the far wastelands, with a ruffian group of Hylians.”

“We're not _ruffians_,” Allura protests, a little indignant, back held straight, chin lifted. “We are in the trust of the Hyrule court itself. We have Keith and Axca as our guides on the journey.”

“That right?” Reeza meets Allura's gaze with her own, undaunted, before she leans forward, elbows to knees. “Well, I would say I'd trust Axca's judgment to keep Keith out of trouble, but he drags her well into it with him."

Acxa snorts lightly into her cup, and Keith grumbles.

“It's nothing like that,” He insists, “It's the truth. We were given formal permission by the Queen. I spoke to her myself.”

He passes her a note from his pack, signed by the Queen herself. Reeza gives it a cursory look before handing it back to him.

Apparently, his word weighs enough on its own. She hadn't even asked for any official document before he had provided it.

Shiro reflects on this through a sip of tea.

“It's rough going, from here to the ruins. Nothing unusual, from what we've seen, but still.” Reeza advises, “Anything you should need, we will do our best to provide it here.”

“Thank you,” Keith nods his head humbly, “But we are well prepared for the rest of the journey.”

“Are you certain?” Reeza presses. “At least evaluate your supplies. Shall I have some of the guards join you?”

“That won't be necessary,” He shakes his head, the tiny beads that dangle from his veil clattering faintly. “A larger group will attract more unwanted attention. It'll mean more supplies, and only slow us down. Keep them here, where they are needed.”

“It's dangerous,” She beseeches. “Lady Riju's blessing or no, I couldn't forgive myself should anything happen to you. I could never face your mother again.”

“You worry too much.”

“I assure you,” Allura chimes in, voice as lovely as her most diplomatic smile. “We are not pampered children. We've been traveling for months, and are veterans of battle ourselves. We can defend ourselves quite well, in case of an attack. And, we wouldn't let harm befall either Keith or Acxa. I swear that.”

Reeza gives Allura another evaluating look. “You sound like a noblewoman.”

“Countess Allura of Altea.” She introduces herself formally, bowing her head. “My family owns a territory on the southeastern side of Hyrule.”

Reeza bows again in respect, and then turns her attention back to Keith.

“....Lady Riju isn't marrying you off to Hylian nobility, is she?"

“_What--_” Allura exclaims, and from the other side of the bench, Lance starts coughing on his drink rather loudly.

“Of _course_ not.” Keith heaves a sigh of disbelief. “Why would you even _assume_ she's my fiance?”

“Because I hear that's a thing in Hyrule, and we've been getting friendlier with them. For better or worse.” She shrugs. “And, you _should_ be thinking about marriage, at your age. Everyone else is. But, good.”

“Good?” Keith's eyes narrow ever so slightly.

“You should marry a Gerudo girl,” Reeza goes on to say, “It would be a shame if a fine young _voe_ like yourself married outside our own. Maybe you don't like it, Keith, but you're important.”

“You're not the first to say so.”

Keith says it smoothly, but his tone is as cold as the chunk of ice in his cup. He drains the rest, and offers it back to the serving tray.

“Thank you for the hospitality. We should be on our way.”

“If you're sure.” Reeza rises when he does, the rest of their companions scrambling to follow.

The cooled room of the building had been a nice reprieve from the sun; it's even harsher now than when they had arrived.

Captain Reeza sees them out. While they were away, their water skins had been replenished, and another bag of supplies gathered for them.

“Surplus.” She promises them, securing them with another rope that says she isn't taking Keith's refusal on this one.

“Be safe out there, young ones.”

–

“Are people usually that concerned with you getting married?” Hunk asks, once they're well out of earshot. “I mean, I guess it's a big deal in a way, considering you're like, a walking good luck charm.”

“I can't believe she just thought _Allura_, was _engaged_, to,” Lance waves his arms in distress, gesturing sharply to Keith. “To _him!_ Just like that! For no reason!”

“I'd rather not talk about it.” Keith says, a little sharply. “It's not a secret. They've been trying to hand me off to someone. I don't want to. That's about all there is to say.”

“Understandably.” Allura pats his arm in sympathy.

Truthfully, Reeza had been astute in one way; alliances could, and often were, made by marriage contracts among the nobility in Hyrule. Allura has been considered marriageable for years now, and waved away every suitor that dared try to take her hand. Of which there had been man, and all unwanted.

So maybe that's why she kindly asks, “What would you rather talk about, then?”

Keith mulls it over a moment. Then glances between her and Shiro.

“They say you're a soldier. What battles have you seen?” He looks back at Allura. “Has Hyrule really seen that much turmoil in recent years, for people as young as you two to be old warriors?”

Shiro flushes a little under the sudden attention. It sparks Acxa's interest too, her head lifting so she can listen in.

“Oh, well,” Shiro admits, “Mostly driving out monsters from infested areas. Allura helped unify some of the surrounding territories, and raised a sizable army with which to seize many of those territories back.”

“And you helped lead them.” She says proudly.

“I heard about Shiro before I even met him,” Lance pipes up, “He was already a well known Captain by the time I enlisted.”

“You, too? You're a soldier?”

“Of course, isn't it obvious?” Lance gestures at the bow strapped to his back. “You think this is for show?”

“Hunters use bows.” Acxa points out.

“I—okay yeah, but no, I was a soldier.” Affronted, he crosses his arms over his chest. “I hunted too, but I was stationed at a fort by Lake Kolomo. Pretty boring, by the time I made it there. But I'm a damn good marksman.”

“As much as I would love to rub Lance's face by saying otherwise, he actually is.” Pidge admits. Lance swells with the compliment.

The conversation becomes more comfortable after that.

Travel is peaceful, though exhausting. By the time they've settled down for the night, they're ready for the simple but delectable meal Hunk prepares.

“I'd like to hear more stories,” Keith admits over a warm bowl of rice and meat. “Of your battles. You and Allura had an army?”

“An army makes it sound as though there was some grand battle,” Allura laughs lightly. “Really, it was a few of the territories neighboring each other that simply banded together to combine resources.”

“For years now, Hyrule has been trying to reclaim old territories that fell into disrepair after the Calamity.” Shiro explains, “Monsters had overrun _entire_ regions, places that were too dangerous for people to even step foot in.”

“And next to those, were camps of criminals, hiding from the law. I suppose, not unlike you were describing the remote areas of the desert here.” Allura picks a bone from her bowl and flicks it onto the sand. “Noble families began to try and reclaim their birthrights, which, in a way, worked to help unify towns...”

“But also led to a lot of bickering between them. Who got what land and what resources, you know, typical petty stuff. A lot of records had been lost, including land deeds and contracts. But Allura stepped in, and got them in line, so to speak.”

“And that's how we first met,” Allura leans over to affectionately bump shoulders with Shiro. “At a war council meeting. He was a promising new Captain of the Holts, you see, and I was _so thankful_ to have someone my age to share annoyed glances with.”

Shiro laughs at the memory, and leans his cheek on the top of her head.

“Kept me sane to have you there. Man, afterwards? We'd just sneak off with a bottle of wine and complain. Oh, but. You know. You didn't hear that part.”

“Of course.” Keith casts a curious glance towards Lance, who's finished eating and sits nearby, sketching out what little of the desert landscape is still visible in the twilight.

“Holt? That's your family, isn't it?”

“Yup,” Pidge unties her hair, redoing it in another messy braid. “Shiro's family has always been pretty close to ours. People thought my father was playing favorites, giving him such a title so young. But, you know, then he shut them up.”

“You really did grow up together, then.” Keith smiles, eyes still on the charcoal marks quickly appearing across Lance's parchment.

“We did,” Pidge stretches her arms overhead. “Us and my brother Matt. Shiro was supposed to babysit me, but little did they realize he got into every bit as much trouble as we did.”

“Isn't that the way of it.” Acxa shakes her head. “Keith's always been too curious for his own good, and they wanted me to watch him. And instead, we would just get into mischief together.”

Per Keith's request, Shiro and Allura tell stories of their battles. Sieges that lasted days, fields of monsters raised by a Blood Moon, and the town they had tried to invade.

Huge bands of criminals that had tried to overrun a town, that they'd had to drive out. An entire mountain, crawling with fortified bokoblin camps who would fall upon any unsuspecting traveler like vultures to a carcass.

“And so, how did you end up journeying across the world, for research?” Keith rests his chin on his fist. “Are those battles over, now?”

“Well,” Allura sighs. “Learning about Hyrule's history has always been a passion of mine. I was pulled away from it by more urgent needs. I couldn't stand watching the people we were supposed to be leading suffer. They're our vassals, and yet they were at the whimsy of greedy, prideful lords who couldn't put their differences aside for a common cause.”

Thoughtful, she gazes up at the moon. It's nearly full tonight, reflecting the silver of her own hair.

“It was only after it seemed peace was an option that I could even harbor the thought. But Father insisted I follow that path, while I could. One day, I might not be able to, with the responsibilities our family holds.”

Her smile is warm and dazzling, her eyes glittering.

“And so, here I am.” She says softly. “So lucky as to be able to do just that. With my closest companions, no less. I have already learned so much, and yet have just barely scratched the surface.”

“You must have.” Keith murmurs, admiring. After a moment, he repeats it, softer, more thoughtfully. “Yes. You must have.”

Distantly, a wolf howls. Somehow, it brings the conversation to close. The camp is silent, before Keith excuses himself to patrol.

Acxa follows him without another word.

“...Did we say something wrong?” Hunk asks under his breath, when they're gone.

Allura looks in the direction they had left to.

“He really is a bit of an odd one, isn't he?”

–

All is as usual the next morning.

By now, the routine among the group is efficient, and they're well on their way by the time the sun has fully risen.

Acxa and Keith estimate another two or three days until they reach their destination, so long as they make good pace.

That almost seems too optimistic. Here, the dunes rise as tall as hills, the cacti growing bent and odd to try and catch the sun. Large, jutting rocks and loose sand make the going difficult and wearisome.

“At least there's more shade.” Pidge shrugs and takes a swig of water, pausing to scoop up an unusually chipped stone. Interested, she hums before tucking it into her satchel.

“The farther out we are, the more likely we will find monsters that haven't been driven back from our territories,” Axca warns, “We must be more vigilant than ever. If you see anything...tell us right away.

“Oh?” Lance crosses both arms behind his head. “Whatever happened to _we know what to look for, 'cause you Hylians are too dumb to spot a raging lynel from a mile away?”_

“...What's a lynel?”

_ “Gods_, Lance, shut _up._” Pidge punches him hard enough in the rib to make him yelp. “What have we told you about not antagonizing the people keeping us alive?”

“What's a lynel?” Keith repeats, looking around for explanation.

“They're huge, hulking, lion-man-horse beasts, and carry weapons roughly the size of...well, you.” Hunk grimaces. “They're _super _territorial, and attack on sight.”

“Oh.” Keith breathes, fascinated. “I want to see.”

“_No_, you _don't!_” Hunk waves his hands frantically, “Didn't you hear what I just said? Huge. Scary. Monsters.”

“You, do you have any drawings of them?” Hopeful, Keith looks over at Lance.

“I have half of one.”

“...Half?”

“It saw me.”

“Oh.”

“I'll try and find it later. I think I might be able to sorta fill in the rest--”

Behind them, without warning, Acxa is in motion, grabbing Pidge by her arm and flinging her back. She yelps in surprise, pulled clean off her feet, just in time for a plume of fire to envelop the space she had been.

“What the _f--_”

“Pidge!” Shiro is beside her in a second, where she's sprawled fearfully on the ground, “Are you okay?”

“I—yeah, I'm fine.” He supports her back to her feet, watching the sand shake off the form of a blood-red Lizalfos, hissing and flexing its clawed hands. Between them, Axca already has her sword out, at the ready, circling the beast and drawing its attention with sharp taps to her shield.

“Weapons out,” Keith instructs, his blade whispering its way free of the sheath, the metal glinting sharp. “There are likely more nearby.”

“How many, do you think?” Shiro draws his own sword, Allura drifting towards him in a defensive line.

“Normally, they will be in groups of three or four, but it will be hard to tell if they are hidden.” Keith addresses Hunk, “Do not let them near the supplies, and try to keep the seals calm. If they escape, we're as good as dead.”

Hunk grabs the reins, where the seals are whimpering and fidgeting. Seeing them secure, Keith turns and breaks into a run in the other direction.

“Keith!” Acxa yells, “Don't just--”

“I'm going to rout out any others, if they are near,” He calls back. “I can handle it, Axca.”

“You reckless fool of a--”

She doesn't have time to finish. The Lizalfos lunges. She parries the attack, throwing it off balance before swerving her foot back to follow up with a strike of her own. It just barely glances its side, the blade sliding off its thickened scales.

Snapping smoking jaws, it screeches and attacks again with a crudely sharpened sword it draws from an equally makeshift holster. Its blade is rusted dark and hangs heavy, clanging on the front of her shield with its unwieldy attempt at an overhead slash.

Without warning, the sand on the other side of their wagon bursts in a flurry, startling the seals to frantic barks. Another Lizalfos is in the air, a spear flailing in its grasp.

Lance's arrow knocks it off course, lodging itself deep into its arm; it shrieks, furious, landing heavily and fixes wild, gleaming eyes on him; Allura is on it the next instant.

Her spear comes quick, but the thing dodges out of the way, golden scales flashing. Hissing low, it crouches, pounces, electricity crackling in the air around it.

“Electric—oh _no_, not _these_ assholes.”

Allura lets out a cry of surprise, leaping back, stumbling with the clumsy footing of the sand; she just barely manages to keep its claws from her chest, where it had tried to swipe at her. She whips the other end of the spear up, the wooden pole cracking against its heavy head.

Shiro rushes to her aid, while Pidge and Hunk keep close to the wagons, trying to soothe the seals, writhing in their restraints, thrashing to try and escape to the sand.

Acxa lures the other Lizalfos farther off, darting and whirling with its attacks and returning it in kind.

The sand is unsteady, and Shiro struggles to find a strong enough footing to build momentum for a proper strike; Allura seems to be having much the same issue, sliding out of of the way of its unkempt attacks.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shiro sees Lance closing in.

“Defend Hunk and Pidge,” He urges, eyes narrowed in on the Lizalfos, and its twitching, sparking tail. “They've got their hands full with the seals.”

“Got it.” Lance steps back, fogged by a cloud of dust and sand as the fight continues.

The creature lashes out, talons scraping alongside the blade; the electricity sparks, sending a skittering of pain harsh enough that he yelps, almost dropping his own weapon.

“Duck!”

Without hesitation, he drops; over his shoulder, Allura's spear comes flying as a javelin.

It lands clear in the Lizalfos' chest, the force enough to send it reeling back with a pained shriek. Shiro kicks out, toppling its writhing form to the ground. It lands with a thud, and gives him a clear moment to sink his sword between its ribs.

With one taken care of, Allura quickly grabs her spear, and turns to Acxa's fight.

She's clearly in control, footwork precise where theirs are unsure on the unfamiliar terrain, swerving out of the path of its fiery breath. Without so much as a flinch, she dodges the flames with grace, and the moment it drops its guard, snaps at her in frustration, her blade strikes home.

It's quick, and clean, and done.

It goes still, right where the sword has slid into its neck; and slumps over, twitching out its last bit of energy.

Not a moment is lost before Acxa whips her sword around, blood splattering wetly across the sand.

“Stay here.”

It's her only instruction before she speeds off, climbing a dune with the same ease one would bound up a flight of stairs, and disappears.

“...How do they do that?”

“...Are you guys getting kinda freaked out that neither of the desert experts are here?”

“I'm guessing she just went to find Keith,” Pidge lets out a huge, exasperated sigh, dropping wearily to her knees and leaning heavily against the heaving side of the now perfectly docile seal. “If she says not to move? I'm not moving.”

“Are you alright?” Allura walks over to Shiro, who takes off his gloves to examine his tingling hands. He turns them over, but there are no obvious injuries. Just the tenderness from the burns.

“Yeah, I think I'm fine. Still hurts a bit, but I'll live.”

While they wait, academic curiosity gets the better of Pidge before too long. Picking and poking at the Lizalfos corpses with her instruments, murmuring to herself. They all try not to look, but the _sounds--_

“Pidge, that is _so nasty!” _Hunk shrieks. “Can you not do that, maybe?!”

“I've never seen Lizalfos that could _breathe fire_,” Pidge defends. “Aren't you a little curious as to how they do it?”

“That fire almost _roasted_ you.” Lance is quick to remind her.

“Yeah, but it didn't.” She points out cheerily.

“Can't you just ask Keith or Acxa when they get back? So you don't have to, you know, do _that_?” Hunk points to...whatever it is Pidge is doing.

“I dunno why you're so squeamish about it,” She relents, standing to her full, unimpressive height and shaking her head. “We've all hunted and prepped animals for _years_. Lance, you've helped birth horses, and cows, and sheep-”

“It's one thing to do a thing that needs to be done, it's another to sit here and listen to you rummage around its guts!”

“_I_ never did any of that stuff!” Hunk wails. “And I don't wanna start now!”

“Oh _fine._” Relenting, she stops and wanders back towards the rest of them.

Not wanting to admit he was a little squeamish himself from all of it, Shiro focuses on the smell of the burn salve Allura is massaging into his hands.

Not long after that, Acxa and Keith appear over the swell of a large dune, bright spots against dull earth.

“There were three more not far from here.” Keith urges, “We should get moving--”

“Are you _absolutely mad!?_”

Allura's on him before he can even protest.

“You just ran off by yourself, you twit!” She snaps, “That was _so_ dangerous, and you left us to just wonder where you'd gone!?”

“Oh, good,” Acxa rolls her shoulders and takes the seal's reins from Hunk. “Someone else can yell at him for a change.”

“That something you usually have to do?” Shiro bites back a chuckle, but his mouth is still hinting at it. Acxa clearly sees it, and even though she gives a frustrated sigh, there's a twinkle of humor in her eye.

“I've all but given up. He doesn't listen.”

“If they'd all come at us in the same place at the same time,” Keith argues, “They would have surrounded us.”

“You could have said as much, you know,” Allura lectures, and continues to reprimand with her hands planted on her hips. “You endangered yourself for no reason! You should have _at least_ taken someone with you!"

“Taken _who_?”

It's not often that someone has the gall to withstand Allura's temper, but here he is, standing his ground, meeting her fury with equal stubbornness.

“Someone! _Anyone!_” She huffs, “What would happen if you'd been injured? No one knew where you'd gone. What if you'd needed help?”

“I did not need the help,” Keith snarls, eyes narrowed. “I don't know how you fight. It was better to leave someone experienced with fighting a fire-breathing or lightning Lizalfos--”

“We do not need to be coddled,” Allura insists, stomping her foot defiantly. “We're not some helpless children, you know.”

“And neither am I!” Keith shakes his head, voice risen to match hers, eyes narrowed. “I found and killed three of them in the time it took you to fend off _two_.”

“And _what if you'd gotten hurt? Killed?_” Allura steps right into his space. “That's plain foolishness, leaving yourself outnumbered like that!”

Keith opens his mouth to say something, but Hunk strategically places himself between them, cooing, “Guys, enough. It's hot. We're hot. Let's cool down, keep moving, yeah? Sorta don't wanna stand around looking at a couple of lizard bodies.”

Allura and Keith continue to stare each other down. Shiro's hand gently finds Allura's shoulder.

“Come on, Hunk's right. There's no use in a shouting match. Everyone's fine, that's what matters at the moment. We'll talk about it later when we've all calmed down.”

“No use,” Acxa agrees, “Especially if it means attracting more of them.”

“Oh, yeah, let's definitely not do that.” Hunk agrees quickly.

Though tense, Allura and Keith give each other one last defiant glare before leaving each other to their own devices.

“Wait, wait, Acxa,” Pidge waves her hand to flag her down. “How do the Lizalfos breathe fire?”

“Venom sac.” Acxa crouches by the carcass and points. “The same poison in their fangs is flammable, and so..”

Hunk visibly shudders and claps a large hand to Keith's shoulder, steering him away. “So, lemme tell you again why you _don't_ want to fuck with lynels, and not look at whatever is going on _over there_...”

\----

Later on, Lance finds the half-finished drawing of one, before he'd had to, as he recalls, “run for his fucking life”.

Keith trades for it with a vial of perfume.

“Don't forget.” He says, when Lance slides it back into the waterproof skin he keeps his papers in.

“I won't, I won't! Promise.”

When Acxa returns from her perimeter check, Keith replaces her to stand guard while she takes her dinner.

After he's disappeared into the haze of dusk, Allura hesitates before she wonders aloud, “Was I too cross with him?”

“No,” Acxa says immediately. “You aren't the first to criticize his rashness.”

“His own mom called him reckless right in front of us,” Pidge reminds her, “If it makes you feel better, I don't think he's still mad.”

“I did let my temper get the best of me. Perhaps I should apologize.”

“If you wish.” Acxa thanks Hunk for her plate, and settles to eat. "But I don't think you need to."

“He's probably not thinking about it as much as you are.” Shiro assures her, “There's nothing wrong with wanting to make sure the air is clear between you, so go ahead and talk to him if you want. But he doesn't seem the petty sort to me.”

“To be fair, Lance has pissed him off a lot. _A lot_. But he still talks to him and pesters him to see his drawings.”

“I haven't pissed him off that much!”

“Like, at least twice a day, Lance. At _least_.”

“Definitely not that much.”

“No, definitely that much.” Shiro assures him.

Lance squawks, and Allura chuckles.

“Don't worry,” Hunk teases, “It means you have redeeming qualities, too.”

“Well, thank _you_, Hunk.”

With a huff, Lance tears into chunk of dried, roasted meat, and though he grumbles, he's back to telling stories as soon as Keith is back and asking for one.

It might well be the favorite one Keith hears so far. According to Lance, it's one of the more fantastical ones he has stored up.

From another world, a princess of shadow is cursed by an evil usurper, and cast into another dimension in a wretched form. She comes across a hero, cursed to take the shape of a beast, and together they travel the land in search of the power with which to restore both their real forms, and to destroy the evil who threatens the life of both lands.

Shadowy creatures and a princess of light mark the first part of the story. Keith's leaning forward in his seat to catch every word.

When Pidge interrupts him with a wide, loud yawn, he halts.

“This _is_ a pretty long one. Maybe I should tell the rest tomorrow.”

“Don't stop on _my_ account.” Pidge mumbles and wraps her cloak tightly around herself, laying her head in Allura's lap. “It was getting good.”

He shakes his head. “I forgot you're younger than us.”

“Fuck you, dude.” She says tiredly, and without any bite. “Only by two years.”

Allura yawns daintily behind her hand, the other stroking through Pidge's hair. “You are _so_ warm. I'm stealing you from Shiro tonight.”

“Fine by me.”

“Rude. I'll sleep with the seals then. They understand me.”

Shiro doesn't sleep with the seals, but he does make sure they have water before he settles in by the fire to sleep.

-

When he wakes, the moon is the first thing he sees. Silent and whole, surrounded by stars that shine as silver splinters.

The sounds of Gerudo murmuring stir him further into waking. The words are as foreign and sweet as the tea they drink, and they notice him as he sits up.

“Can't sleep?”

Keith's hair is down, loosely kept by a single hair tie at the base of his neck. Stray locks curl by his sharp jaw, almost veil the glint of a golden earring. As ever, his focus is a sharp that borders on unsettling. Axca's as well, though his is more...guarded. Harder.

“I just woke up.”

“Did we wake you?” Acxa pours a third, steaming cup.

“No, you didn't.”

Shiro silently accepts the invitation, and shifts closer to the fire, grateful to the warmth in his hands. There's a definite hint of cinnamon to the brew today.

For as much as Shiro might cherish the chatter that his longer-time friends offer, Acxa and Keith's quiet companionship is refreshing. Acxa fletches arrows at an easy pace, her hands well practiced and movements precise. Keith has her bow in his lap, polishing the wood and checking the string. He draws out a wax salve to mend its slight fray, the roughs of his fingers dancing over the bowing line.

When he's done, he passes it over to Acxa, who takes it with a word of what Shiro can only interpret to be of thanks.

It's the only word any of them utters since he joined them. Shiro watches a beetle crawl its way out of a patch of dry grass, and struggle its way over a large stone. When he finishes his tea, Acxa offers more, to which he shakes his head.

At some point, Keith straightens, and pulls out the hair tie, so he can rework the long tresses into a somewhat neater hold. Shiro doesn't think about it, doesn't realize, that he's watching, until Keith hesitates. Catches him in the act.

Shiro doesn't look away, and offers a smile.

A flicker of shyness, quick as a lick of the campfire's flame.

Then he turns his face to finish tying it.

Shiro's empty mug's gone cold in his hands.

“I'm going to walk.”

Keith says it more to Acxa than to Shiro, but somehow, he's on his feet.

“I'll come with you. I can't sleep, anyway.”

Acxa shrugs and hums her assent as she slips beneath a thick blanket, sword within arms' reach.

Keith's shadowed face is unreadable.

“Very well."

Shiro retrieves his doublet to ward off the desert night, and Keith wraps his cloak tighter about himself, secured with a heavy crimson tie.

With a woolen scarf thrown around his shoulders for extra defense, Shiro carefully steps over Lance's outstretched leg, past the sleeping mass of seal, and joins Keith at the edge of their camp.

Weapons at their hips, they follow a moonlit river of sand, a path glowing between its hills.

“So, what are we looking for?” Fighting back a yawn, Shiro brushes a lock of hair from his eyes.

“Any unusual movement in the sand. Lizalfos camouflage, cover themselves and wait. Any signs of a campfire, where moblins or bokoblins might be gathered.”

Scanning the nightly landscape, Keith's footsteps are silent as they go. By comparison, Shiro feels himself large and blustering. After all, he's been a soldier, a knight, a guard, but there's a different, more controlled way in which Keith moves.

“What is even for them to hunt, this far out?” Shiro wonders aloud.

“Birds. Lizards. Coyotes, foxes. Of course, once in a while, they end up as lunch themselves.”

Shiro shudders. “Ugh, you don't mean-”

“Molduga.”

“...What?”

“Molduga.” Keith repeats. Seeing Shiro's confusion, he gestures as they walk. “Huge fish. They swim in the sand. They're about as tall as a building. Can swallow a sand seal whole if they want.”

“You're fucking with me.”

It pops out of his mouth before he can stop it. Keith stares, and then smirks, shaking his head.

“No, I'm not fucking you.”

Shiro sputters through a laugh, “Hang on, time out, language correction. You don't say--”

“They're real creatures.” Keith insists. “They're rare, but they are real. It's dangerous to fight them, but their parts are some of the most prized ingredients for medicines and other uses.”

“Okay, _how_ big, again?”

Keith looks around, and spots a cactus about six, seven feet tall, if he's any judge. “See? About twice as big.”

“....No fucking way.”

“Yes!” Keith punches Shiro in the shoulder, amused at his disbelief. “Is that bigger than a Lynel?”

“I...I guess? But. Fish can't _swim_ through _sand_, especially not one that big.”

“And yet they do. _You_ are telling _me_ what lives in the desert?”

“So you've seen one.”

“I have.”

“And fought it?”

“Yes,” Keith recalls. “It was a very long fight. I went home and near collapsed from the exhaustion. Almost an entire day, I slept.”

“How'd you even come across it?”

“It's attracted by sound,” Keith gestures towards the ground. “By vibrations. Part of why large groups are discouraged from traveling. A tribe of bokoblins were getting close to an outlying village, and we wanted to dispose of them, to make sure they did not attack. I suppose the Molduga just happened to be nearby.”

Behind them, their footsteps leave imprints in the fine earth, shallow little dips. The breeze quickly soothes their edges, and leaves Shiro wanting for more tea.

Next to him, the lacquered pieces of Keith's armor gleam brilliantly, even at this time of the night. Peony red and deep emerald green inlays. Cerulean flowers, marked with sharp white accents. The gold that bonds them all, latched and secured over a dark red tunic.

A shawl whose corners flutter along with loose strands of dark, dark hair. Intricately woven, beautifully designed with a pattern he's never seen before.

Gerudo clothing is famous for its styling, but it is a special sight up close. From here, he can even smell hints of the oils Keith has used this morning. Jasmine, straight from the bush, undercut with a woodsy sort of smell.

It's a little sharp. Bitter and sweet.

With the cool night air that he breathes deep to his lungs, he appreciates its warmth all the more.

They make a perimeter sweep of about half a mile out, Shiro estimates.

“You do this every night?”

Keith nods, and hoists himself up onto a ledge of jutting bedrock.

“I don't mind.”

“It's peaceful.” Shiro admits. Without realizing, his eyes are up at the sky again.

Clouds are sparse out here, and give an even wider view to the stars.

“...I think Allura wants to apologize to you, by the way.”

“Apologize?” Keith sits. “For?”

“Yelling at you, I guess.” Shiro crosses his arms. “She can let her temper get the best of her sometimes, and she knows that.”

“There is no need.” Keith lets one leg dangle over the edge of the rock.

“Not the first time you've heard as much, right?” Shiro leans his hip against the side of the stone, pressing cold against him.

“No,” Keith admits with a wry little smile. “It was nothing new. I often get scolded for acting on my own.”

“And yet...you keep doing it.” Shiro turns his head to look at his companion, a tease in his voice. "You like getting yelled at?"

Keith doesn't answer at first, as he contemplates.

“It seemed best in the moment. Perhaps, I was not thinking past that.”

“So, _why_ didn't you ask anyone for help?”

“It was easier to do it myself. Didn't have to explain.”

“But...you could have asked. Backup, you know? Someone would have gone with you.” Shiro tilts his head, pretending he can't see Keith's profile out of the corner of his eye. “Allura was worried about you. That's all it really was.”

“It's...not my way, I suppose.” Keith hums. A pause, then, “Why would she be worried? I can handle myself.”

“Well, of course.” Shiro admits, “But anything can happen, even to the most experienced.”

“Yes, and yet, I did go off on my own. It would have been my own fault, either way.” Keith insists.

“Yeah, sure. But no one _wants_ anything to happen to you.” Shiro explains.

Another wry look comes across Keith's face. “Ah. I suppose you would have been in quite a bit of trouble with my people.”

“Keith,” Shiro sighs, “That's not what Allura was thinking, and that's not what I meant. We're concerned for _you. You_ could have been hurt. _You_ endangered yourself.”

Keith turns to look at Shiro, his earrings swinging with the movement, clinking against the decorative chains of his scarf.

Beneath his tensed brow, his gaze pierces as indigo steel. Looking for falsehood.

Then he looks away.

“You seemed to have it under control without me anyway.”

Shiro blinks.

Maybe his surprise shows plainly, because when Keith looks again, he breaks into a short laugh under his breath.

“You were already taking the lead before I left. You didn't need me there.”

“I...well.”

“You were a soldier, yes? A captain. Then that's a natural instinct of yours, maybe. Better you than me.”

Gracefully, he hops off the stone, barely making a noise in the sand.

“...We should start back.”

The wind picks up then, whips a long trail of Keith's scarf behind him, hair blown back and off his face.

Shiro picks his way through scattered rocks and shrugs, trying to keep the sand out of his eyes.

“Still,” He calls, “Next time, maybe you should stick around.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Keith almost purrs, the tease spiking his accent.

“You said,” Shiro reminds him, catching up to his quickened step. “That you wanted to see how Hylians fight.”

Keith's eyes blink wide, and then he tilts his head back for a long, slightly exasperated laugh.

“That I did. I did.”

His teeth glint white, and Shiro can't resist matching the grin.

“Next time, then, Hylian.” Keith's smirk is sharp as a wolf's.

”Impress me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear they eventually get to the ruins.
> 
> The legends and stories that they tell each other are based off other Legend of Zelda games. They're not necessarily loyal to the specific game's lore, but I figure given enough time and distance, the stories must change anyway.


End file.
